The Lost Kingdom
by LostKnight
Summary: What ever happen to the Nation of Azeroth?


WARCRAFT 3 Fanfic  
Disclaimer  
All works belong to BLIZZARD!  
  
  
THE FORGOTTEN KINGDOM  
  
Varian Wryn, King of Azeroth, look out of the window of his room as   
he received the latest news from his advisor of Lordaeron. The figure behind   
him was dress in the typical Paladin armor, the emblem of a lion face imprinted   
on his breastplate. Little could be made out from him save that he was kneeling   
on the ground. After what seem like an eternity of letting him wait, the king   
tilt his head up to follow a flock of bird as he gave the order to report.  
  
"What news do you have for me Damastes?" Varian asked his voice confident   
and commanding. Like a true king.  
  
"I bring news most grave, sire." Damastes responded. His voice sounding   
fearful as he spoke, it was not as well concealed as he would have liked.  
  
"Continue," the King stated.  
  
"Sire," Damastes began, making careful to choose his words   
carefully. "Lordaeron has fallen."  
  
Varian stiffens at the proclamation, and turned himself around to face   
Damastes.   
  
"What?!" Varian asked in a shock voice. His heart was beating fast   
and he look down at his advisor.  
  
"Sire, Lordaeron, right now as we speak, is being overwhelmed by   
a monstrous undead army." Damastes began. "Their King is dead, their   
army is broken, and their allied have fled the land to sail west to a   
land they call Kalimdor."   
  
Varian knew of the king assassination, and had sent his condolences   
out to the nation. That had been 4 months ago. He remained silent to   
let his advisor continue on with his report.  
  
"The Elves homeland, Quel'Thalas, is now nothing more then a   
graveyard for the elves. All who have not fled with Jaina Proodmoore   
has been slaughter down to a man. I myself have helped in the   
evacuation before returning here to give the report."  
  
Varian listen unbelieving at the news, if what Damastes said was   
true, then the strongest nation in the world and all of her allies   
have been wipe out in a mere four months. Varian suddenly felt   
the weight of the crown, and knew that his people, while loyal   
and strong would fall quickly before the onslaught of this new   
undead army then Lordaeron had.  
  
"Summon the council," Varian said. He needed to find a way   
to save his people.  
  
*****  
The Council Room, One Hour Later…  
  
Varian watches as Damastes told his advisors what the situation   
was in Lordaeron. After Damastes had finish, there was utter   
silence around the room. Varian made eye contact with each   
of them as he prepared himself to speak.  
  
"Gentlemen, as you have heard from our friend. Azeroth stands   
on the brink of destruction once more," He looked at all the   
grave faces around him to make sure they know the importance   
of what he was saying. "I intent to make sure that won't   
come to past."  
  
He then turned to look at Torin, commander of Azeroth standing   
army. "Can we fight them?"  
  
There was a rustling in the room as the Torin stood up and look   
at the king, with a grave expression on his face. "Sire, if   
what Damastes said is true, we would be defeated and they   
would not even notice our effort."  
  
"Our," Torin hesitated for a moment. "Our army as you know is not   
what it was once, we have not been able to recover from the   
lost we sustained in the Great War."  
  
"There is simply no way to face them, we should recall or forces   
and have them move further south but scout the north for any   
signs," Torin suggested.  
  
Varian nodded in agreement. "Do it, let everyone know we are now   
at war again, lets hope it would take them a longer time to reach   
us while we prepare our defenses."  
  
His advisor looked at him incredulously.  
  
"Prepare the defenses?" Torin asked in a bewilder voice. "Sire,   
surely you are not thinking of fighting the undead."  
  
Varian looked at his advisor and noted some of the old men   
recalled the horrors they have seen in the Great War. Varian   
himself remember the history lesson well, they said that   
Lothar himself cradle Varian when he was a mere babe.   
  
Everyone in the room knew of the devastating blow they received   
during the war. They knew the army they had now was a pale shadow   
of the glory they once had. Once their nation had been   
glorious, their city beautifully built, their citizen happy.   
They were the kingdom everyone tried to emulate. They were the   
shinning beacon of light in the world and an army unmatched by   
any, not even by Lordaeron.   
  
There was once a common belief that it would take all of the   
northern kingdom to defeat Azeroth, a bolster no one try of   
course, then the Orcs came. The Orcs was a force unlike anything   
they ever faced. The screaming, barbaric, green-skinned monster   
came with a massive army to crush anything they might encounter. They   
destroyed whole villages, and every man, woman and child was   
killed as they continued their rampage.   
  
Azeroth reeled under the ferociousness of their attacks, and   
tens of thousands fled before their onslaught. Of course, one   
does not attack a lion and expect to live. Azeroth after reeling   
from the initial shock of the attack muster their forces and crushed   
the army that had invaded them with utter impunity. Not one Orc   
survived the battle at Stormwind, Azeroth capital.   
  
There was a celebration of course for the victory. Thinking that   
they have dealt the invader a swift and terrible lost. They were   
never more wrong. Soon news arrived of the second Orc army on the   
lands of Azeroth, and once more Azeroth son's and daughter sent   
their soldiers out to fight. Again they defeated the Orcs, but   
their losses and causality was even more devastating. They Orc   
fought with a savagery, unlike anything they have ever known. Once   
more their was a celebration and for a while, they all thought the   
lands were at peace, and any information to find out where the Orc   
came from turn up with nothing.   
  
Then came the fateful day, when one of the major providence was   
attacked and slaughter to a man by the Orcs. Once more, King Llane   
sent his armies out, this time in such great numbers that everyone   
knew that victory was assured. They were wrong.   
  
When the army found the Orc army again they engage what could be   
said as a sea of Orcs. They were slaughter to a man. The Orc then   
ravished the surroundings area while Azeroth reeled form its lost. The   
King then gave Lothar a command to stop the advancing Orc army at   
all cost. Lothar return triumphant, but brings news of even more   
Orcs approaching. It was as of there was an endless number of them   
and they threaten to engulf them. Lothar and his knights and paladins   
with all of Azeroth forces at his command were commanded to stop and   
defeat the Orcs, no matter the cost. So it was that the first war was   
fought. Neither side giving ground, No matter how many victory   
Azeroth gain, there were still more Orcs, while their number dwindle   
down day by day.  
  
Finally in the fifth year of the war, Lothar found out that it   
was their greatest sorcerer, Medivh, who was aiding the Orcs. So   
Lothar with an army attacked the Citadel where Medivh was hidden   
and slew him. However, at the same time, the Orc finally broke   
through Azeroth defensive line and was able to assault Stormwind   
and slay their beloved King Llane. They complete destroy Azeroth   
capital city. Lothar, seeing the Orcs would kill them all by sheer   
numbers eventually contacted his friend Dailen Proodmoore and the   
greatest retreat in mankind history happen. All citizen was first   
while their army held back the Orc forces for as long as they   
could, refugee tell the their tale and horror that they have suffered   
under the Orc assault. King Terenas, hearing of the people blight   
let the refuges of Azeroth settle on the southern lands of Lordaeron. After   
all was evacuated, the people start to settle in peace seeing no   
signs of pursuit from the Orcs. That was, until six years later.  
  
In what would be later known as the Great War, the Orc advance in   
greater numbers then before while at the same time launch a   
massive naval fleet north toward Lordaeron and the northern   
kingdoms. King Terenas seeing that this is to great a threat   
created an alliance with all the northern kingdom, and even   
manage to enlist the aid of the elves of Quel'Thalas. Lothar   
was put in charge of the Alliance forces and once again Azeroth   
son's and daughter took up arm and fought alongside the Northern   
kingdom to retake their lands. In what would be a bloody war, the   
Orc was slowly push back inch by inch south as Alliance forces   
suffered heavy losses. The heaviest of all being Lothar, but that   
further incite the Alliance and made Azeroth army fought harder. Finally   
they came upon the accursed portal from where the Orc world was   
linked with their own and destroyed it.  
  
Azeroth celebrated the return to their lands and pledge they   
would support the Alliance forever. Money and time was sink into   
rebuilding Azeroth by the Alliance and soon, the citizen were able   
to return in peace, or so they thought. By this time 25 years have   
passed since the first Orc incursion and all was fine until the new   
capital of Azeroth was sack by a huge Orc forces. Azeroth responded   
swiftly and once more retook the Dark Portal from the Orcs, while the   
Alliance mustered their forces in the north, but with the internal   
rift in the Alliance everything took longer, when what they needed   
was decisive action.   
  
So under Khaddar advice, Azeroth amassed a huge army to invade   
the Orc world of Draenor and find a way to close the gate once   
and for all. None ever returned. The rift of the Dark Portal lost   
it's mystical energies also. By the time the Alliance forces   
arrived, the war was over. King Terenas expressed his sympathy   
for Azeroth lost, but nothing could fill the voice. The male   
population of Azeroth was very sparse. Wives lost husband, children   
lost fathers. Even the elves lost a lot of their brethren in the   
expedition to Draenor, but Azeroth felt the blow like a death   
kneel. It would take several generations to even begin to retain   
the former glory they once had, they have gone from being the   
greatest nation to the weakest nation.   
  
Thirteen years have passed since then, and most of their   
soldiers are old men or young boys. The undead would tear   
them to shreds.  
  
Varian shook his head at such thoughts. "No, we are just   
going to delay them should they arrive."  
  
Varians stood up and exhale heavily. "Move everyone to the   
costal town and commandeer any ships you can fine, pay any   
merchants for their ships also."  
  
The people in the room looked at their King with wide   
eye. They knew what he was asking, they were being asked   
to leave their homeland again.  
  
"May I ask were you are planning to go?" asked one of his advisor.  
  
"We, will be following Lady Proodmoore to the distant land   
of Kalimdor, hopefully we can link up with her refugees   
then." With that the Varian got out of his Chair and exited   
the room. They took back their land once, they would do so   
again. Of that, Varian was sure about.   
The End  
  
A/N: I wrote this becasue, Azeroth was not even mention ONCE!_ 


End file.
